


Slumber

by Vera



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-03
Updated: 1999-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera/pseuds/Vera





	Slumber

"You miss your mother."

Anakin snuggled into Padme's slim arms. Her body was wonderfully warm and comforted him beyond expectation, slimmer than his work-worn mother, her clothes soft and her scent sweetness overlaid with the dust of Tatooine. Strange and yet strangely familiar.

"Padme, can I ask you a favour?"

"Of course, Annie."

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Before she could reply they were interrupted by Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Anakin, it is not appropriate for a young boy to share sleeping quarters with a lady."

Anakin buried himself further into his corner. He had not heard the Jedi Master enter. Disappointment prompted his resigned reply. "Because I was a slave."

 

Qui-Gon knelt beside them. "That is not the reason, Anakin. Padme's duty is to the Queen and the people of Naboo. We are ill friends if we seek to distract her from that duty with our own needs." He brushed Anakin's hair back. "Come, you may sleep with me. I have warmth enough to share with a desert dweller. Goodnight," he dismissed Padme, and led Anakin away.

Their entrance roused Obi-Wan from his unquiet bed. An apprehension focused all his thoughts on his Master. Fierce protectiveness, completely at odds with his faith in his warrior teacher, troubled him. Every moment he felt that his usual place, to Qui-Gon Jinn's side, was wrong. He must stand in front, he must shield. Meditation did not sooth his amorphous fear. He worked through the exercise again, letting the fear pass around him and through him and focused on the soft rustle of outer clothing being shed, two ill-suited bodies shifting till comfort sought was found.

"Annie, I will not warm your feet with my body!"

"Sorry..."

"And you wished to distress Padme with your ice block feet? Be still now, Anakin, or you will find yourself sharing Jar Jar's pool."

Obi-Wan turned over so he could see the other bed. Both his Master and the boy lay on their sides, facing him. The boy looked angelic and serious, a small fist curled under his cheek. His Master, too, had closed his eyes, one large hand resting on the boy's head. How simple it was for the boy. He need not question, only follow. Need not be plagued by the uncertainty that knowledge brings. When he was Anakin's age Obi-Wan had believed that Jedi Knights knew everything. He had thought that knowledge would bring wisdom and wisdom, certainty. It had seemed promised in the Jedi's oldest mantra, "There is no ignorance, there is knowledge", but though knowledge had proven an invaluable tool and a doughty weapon, ultimately all that he had learned had only shown him how unwise he was.

Turning to lay on his back, he began the exercises again. He spread his concentration wide, feeling the Living Force around him. There shining within the ship were the young, vibrant, earnest flames of the Queen and her handmaidens, nearby the trusty, steady Panaka. Elsewhere foolish, kindly Jar Jar slept, and at the helm, the bright beacons of Ric Olie and his crew. Drawing his focus close he basked in the goodness of his Master's soul, his secret balm, his delight and his touchstone. But next to it, ah, next to it the uncertain future, the untrained, unknown Anakin. In his place.

In his place.

"Obi-Wan."

"Master?" A whisper in darkness.

"You must rest, Padawan. We will need your strength and focus. I do not think we will find respite on Coruscant. There is more afoot than a simple trade dispute."

"The meditations are not working tonight, Master. I cannot stay within my centre, I cannot rest."

"Fear is the enemy."

"We are not saints, but seekers, Master, and I do not find what I seek."

"Do you know what you seek, Padawan?"

"Certainty. Reassurance. Comfort."

"You are a man now, Obi-Wan. Not a boy to be told that everything will be alright."

"Nevertheless, Master, this is my weakness." He turned to face Qui-Gon, having confessed, he was not longer wary of his Master's searching eyes. "I am afraid for you."

"There is no death; there is the Force." Qui-Gon's gentle, deep voice rolled over him, repeating the oldest lesson. "We have walked in dark places and we will walk in them again, my Padawan. But now we are in this place and it is time to sleep."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, but his bleak expression betrayed the obedience of his words. He wrapped his arms close, resigned a wakeful night, battling his demons. For a moment, all was still. Then Qui-Gon lifted his hand from the boy's head and pushed back his blanket.

"Come then, Padawan, though we are luminous beings, the crude stuff still looks to warmth and the comfort of its like."

Before thought could hinder him, Obi-Wan was off his bed and sliding into his Master's. The boy lay between them, an unusual chaperone, but not one that prevented him looking into his Master's eyes, seeing there, unasked, unexpected, but not unwelcome, a reflection of his heart. The flame of his Master's life shone bright in his eyes and in his mind. There was nothing, nothing but the man who lay before him, burning away the ice of fear and jealousy.

"Master --"

Qui-Gon's large hand stroked his rough cut hair with the same gentleness he had shown the lonely boy between them, but with infinitely more tenderness. "Time enough later, my Obi-Wan. Time enough. Sleep now."


End file.
